


Those Who Favor Fire

by wesleysgirl



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:51:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many thanks to Jane Davitt for the beta.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Those Who Favor Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Jane Davitt for the beta.

It wasn't that he hadn't liked kissing her -- his body's reaction had  
proven, all too strongly, how much he'd liked it. It was just that the  
look she'd given him, and the way she'd called him baby... it was all  
too much.

So Connor left the museum, and the room that was safe

_even though nothing was safe_

in the middle of the rain of fire.

Most people, or at least the ones who had somewhere to go, were off  
the streets. He could still hear people screaming. Buildings were burning.  
Glass was breaking. In some ways it was kind of like L.A. had been transformed  
into Quortoth. Which was weird, because even though Connor had known  
that Quortoth was a bad place, a dangerous place, it had also been a  
familiar place. He was used to it.

Even the vampires seemed to be in hiding, which he guessed made sense  
since fire was falling from the sky.

He'd been wandering around for a long time -- walking in circles that  
kept leading back to the museum, because he wasn't ready to go too far  
away from Cordy -- when he spotted Angel on the outside of the building,  
looking in through a window. The vampire was way up high, and Connor  
could tell that he was looking in on their room. Watching Cordy.

Connor didn't wait to see what would happen. Would Cordy go to the window  
and let him in? Would she kiss him the way she'd kissed Connor? There  
was no doubt in his mind that she'd rather have been kissing Angel.

This time he headed away from the museum and didn't look back. A straight  
line instead of a circle, not knowing where he was going. Not caring.

He was only dimly aware that he could get into trouble like this, not  
paying attention to his surroundings like he was supposed to be.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Connor crashed into someone. He jumped back,  
raising his hands protectively, trying to get his bearings, but the  
voice that spoke to him was familiar. "It's all right!"

Wesley. With his own hands held up in front of him, but with his palms  
facing Connor as if in surrender.

"It's all right. It's me. Are you hurt?"

Connor shook his head briefly. "No. I'm fine."

Relaxing a little bit, Wesley said, "I was looking for Angel. We didn't  
see him after... well. There was a battle."

"And you lost," Connor said. He gestured above, to the sky. "He's okay.  
I saw him. He was... checking on Cordy."

"They're both all right?"

"Yeah." Picturing the two of them together again, Connor started to  
turn away, but Wesley reached out and put a hand on his arm. It felt...  
good. A warm, human touch, like Holtz's.

"You shouldn't be out here," Wesley said. His voice was gentle. "It's  
not safe."

"Nothing's safe," Connor said.

Wesley smiled, just a little bit. It made his face look almost beautiful,  
Connor thought. "No, I suppose not. Still, there are places safer than  
this."

"I guess." Connor knew that he sounded sullen.

"Come with me," Wesley urged. "Just until this is over."

"Will it be?" Connor started to follow Wesley, because he really didn't  
have anywhere else to go, and it was nice not to be alone. "Over?"

"I'd imagine so. I --" Wesley broke off as they both stepped underneath  
an awning when a ball of fire came a bit too close for comfort, and  
then continued on. "I don't think it can last forever. Although I'm  
sure this is just the beginning of a series of unpleasant events."

"Do you know how to stop it?"

Wesley glanced at him in what looked like surprise. "No. But we'll find  
a way. We always have."

They kept walking.

"Do you think --" Connor started, and then another ball of fire came  
hurtling toward them.

Reacting more quickly than a human could have, he grabbed Wesley and  
pushed him into the nearest doorway, flush up against the glass. The  
flames exploded at their feet, spreading out into an evaporating ripple  
like dropping a stone into water.

Connor realized that he was pressed up against Wesley. Wesley was warm  
and he smelled good, and before Connor could even finish that thought  
in his head he was already hard.

He glanced up at Wesley, who was just standing there, one hand on Connor's  
upper arm. "That was -- " Wesley cleared his throat. "Thank you."

"Yeah." Connor backed off, still looking at Wesley thoughtfully. He  
could tell the older man was flustered, but trying to pretend he wasn't.

Starting down the sidewalk again, Wesley gestured at a building up ahead.  
"Perhaps we should get under cover for a few hours. Or however long  
it takes for this to stop."

"Okay."

Connor followed Wesley into the hotel -- an actual hotel, not one that  
just used to be -- and stood back while Wesley talked to the desk guy.

When Wesley turned around, he was holding a key in his hand. "Seems  
we weren't the only ones who thought it might be wise to get off the  
streets," he said. "We got the last room."

Connor nodded. He was still hard inside his jeans, though the ache was  
starting to fade a little bit.

They went up to the room. There were two beds with a table between them,  
a desk and chair, and a dresser that had a television on top of it.  
When Wesley turned it on, there was nothing but static, hissing gray  
and hopeless.

"The cable reception must be out," Wesley said, and turned it off again.

"What do we do now?" Connor moved over to the window and looked out,  
watching as the sky continued to rain fire.

"Wait until morning and hope that the worst of it's over by then." Wesley  
joined him, standing just behind him. "You should get some sleep, if  
you can."

"Sleep?" Connor knew he sounded bitter, and didn't care. "I can't sleep.  
This is all my fault."

Wesley put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. The touch was  
hesitant, like he wasn't sure how Connor was going to react. "Why do  
you think that?"

Part of him wanted to pull away, but again, the touch reminded him of  
Holtz, more than any of Angel's touches ever had. "That thing... that  
Beast... it came up out of the ground where I was born. That has to  
mean something. It's here because of me."

With a dismissive shake of his head, Wesley tightened his grip slightly.  
"It's just as likely that you were born there because there's something  
significant about that particular spot. It doesn't mean that you're  
responsible."

"You don't know that."

"This isn't your fault, Connor."

He turned back to look out the window again. "The world's ending, isn't  
it."

"I hope not."

"Why? What do you have that you still want it to be there tomorrow?  
Your friends don't want you anymore. "

Connor felt Wesley stiffen slightly at that, but when he spoke his voice  
was still calm. "Life is complicated, that's true. That doesn't mean  
I'm ready for it to be over quite yet."

"Don't you ever get tired?" Connor was tired. Tired of fighting, tired  
of trying to do the right thing when he didn't know what that was.

"Yes," Wesley said. His hand patted Connor's shoulder comfortingly.  
"Again, you could try to sleep?"

He could feel tears in his eyes, and he tried to blame it on his exhaustion.  
"I hate it here."

Wesley's arm slipped around him, across his chest, and pulled him back  
against Wesley's body. "It's all right. Things will be better in the  
morning."

"How can you say that?" The words slipped out before Connor could stop  
himself, not that he was sure he would have tried. He turned around  
to look at Wesley, their faces inches apart. "Things never get better.  
You fight and you fight and it doesn't make a difference."

"It does," Wesley said, his fingers moving to tuck Connor's hair back  
behind his ear. "You *are* making a difference. You mustn't doubt that."

Wesley's lips were so close. Without thinking about it, Connor leaned  
forward and kissed him, hoping it would give him some of the same kind  
of comfort Cordy's kiss had.

For a few seconds it seemed like Wesley was kissing him back, but then  
the older man took a step backwards, breaking the contact. "Connor,  
this isn't... this isn't a good idea."

Connor took half a step closer, tilting his head to the side a little  
bit. "But you want to." He could smell Wesley's arousal.

"This isn't about what I want."

"What if it's about what *I* want?" Connor took the other half step,  
desperation making him brave in this situation where he normally would  
have backed off immediately. The ache in his groin intensified as the  
front of his pants brushed against Wesley's.

"You're Angel's son." W esley sounded less calm now, less certain.

"So? He doesn't want you. He wants Cordy."

Wesley shook his head. "This isn't about what Angel wants either, although  
I can say with some assurance that he doesn't want any sort of... involvement  
between the two of us."

"What if I don't care what he wants?"

"And is this what *you* want?"

Connor pressed himself closer to Wesley, and shuddered at the increased  
contact. "This might be the end of the world. It might be my last chance.  
My only chance."

Something in Wesley's eyes softened, and he slid a hand up into Connor's  
hair. "And what if it's not? What if we wake up in the morning and everything's  
still here?"

"Then we'll still be here," Connor breathed, and kissed Wesley again.

Kissing a man was different from kissing a woman -- Cordelia was softer,  
and she smelled kind of pretty, instead of like sweat and fear. This  
seemed more real, somehow. Wesley's lips were hard, and after a minute  
his tongue pushed its way into Connor's mouth, tasting him.

Connor reached down between them, cupping Wesley's hardness through  
his jeans, wanting proof that this was real and that he wasn't the only  
one who knew it. Wesley groaned and kissed him harder, pushing against  
Connor's hand.

"You're sure?" Wesley asked, breathing heavily.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He wanted to feel Wesley's skin, so he pulled back  
enough to yank Wesley's shirt over his head, not bothering with buttons,  
and then took his own shirt off too. He reached for Wesley's hand and  
pressed it to the front of his pants, where no hand but his own had  
ever touched. "There. Doesn't that feel sure to you?"

Wesley's fingers kneaded and then squeezed, and almost before Connor  
knew what was happening he was coming, so hard that it took his breath  
away. He had to cling to Wes to stay upright as he shuddered with the  
force of it because the pleasure made him weak in the knees.

Awash with shame, Connor looked down. "I -- "

Wesley kissed him again, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his  
lips. "It's all right. You're young -- it happens. There's plenty of  
time." His mouth slid down over Connor's and then lower, down across  
the sensitive skin on Connor's throat, making him shiver.

When Wesley's tongue flicked over Connor's nipple, he moaned softly  
and clenched his fists. It felt... warm, and wet, and new. He thought  
he wanted it to go on forever, and then Wesley scraped with his teeth  
and Connor felt his cock twitch like it was waking up again. "I didn't  
know it would feel like this."

"Like what?" Wesley murmured.

"Good. This good."

"It gets better." Wesley's tongue moved lower, and Wesley's hands were  
undoing the button on his pants and sliding the zipper down.

Connor was half-hard again, and when Wesley licked his cock he cried  
out and thrust his hips forward, unable to stop himself. "More," he  
begged. "Please. I need..."

Wesley straightened up, away from him, hands going to his own belt and  
starting to undo it. "Take off your pants," he ordered.

There was a part of Connor that wanted to say 'no.' That wanted to be  
uncooperative, defiant. But the thought of Wesley's skin on his, skin  
on skin... He quickly got undressed, kicking his sneakers into a corner  
of the room and wrestling the pants off.

Seconds later, Wesley was naked too, standing there looking at Connor  
appraisingly.

"What?" Connor felt his brows draw down at the scrutiny.

"Nothing," Wesley said, stepping closer and slipping an arm around Connor's  
waist. "I was just thinking that -- never mind."

Connor let his hand slide between them, touching Wesley's erection curiously.  
It wasn't very different from his own -- about the same size, about  
the same skin tone. His finger brushed over the head and Wesley choked  
back a little sound of pleasure.

Connor smiled. "It feels nice, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does." Wesley's own hand was touching Connor again. "Would  
you like to lie down?"

"Okay."

On their sides, facing each other, they kissed some more. Connor's hands  
explored Wesley's body eagerly, liking the way the older man moved into  
his touch.

Wesley brought two fingers up to Connor's mouth, and after a few seconds  
of hesitation, Connor parted his lips and let Wesley slip them inside.  
He sucked on them, remembering with a surge of arousal how it had felt  
to have Wesley's tongue on his cock.

Then his thighs were parted, his top leg bent at the knee, and those  
wet fingers were sliding back behind his balls, playing with an area  
so sensitive that Connor trembled. "That's... I don't..."

"Shh," Wesley said, silencing him with a kiss and then pushing one finger  
into Connor.

He felt his cock twitch, but the sensation was... well, not all good.  
It felt wrong, somehow. "I don't -- " he tried to say again, and again  
Wesley kissed him.

"Shh," Wesley repeated. "Give it a moment -- relax."

And because Wesley's forearm was pressing against Connor's erection,  
he did try to relax, and that intruding finger slid further in and brushed  
over something that made his cock throb with need. "Oh."

Wesley traced Connor's lower lip with his tongue, and moved his finger  
over that swollen spot again. "I won't fuck you unless you want me to,"  
Wesley said. He slid down and licked the head of Connor's aching erection,  
making Connor gasp and close his eyes. "That's it. Good boy."

Connor couldn't have stayed still for anything. He wanted more. "Will  
it feel good?" He wasn't afraid of a little pain, he told himself, but  
he didn't want to do anything if he wasn't going to get something out  
of it. He was sick of doing stuff just because someone else wanted him  
to.

In response, Wesley circled the head of his cock with his tongue and  
stroked with his finger, and Connor cried out and arched off the mattress.

Wesley stopped what he was doing and pulled Connor up to a sitting position,  
kissing him with lips that tasted a little bit salty. "Your turn," he  
said, and got up onto his knees. Wesley's hand stroked his own cock  
a couple of times, and then moved down to his balls. "Get it good and  
wet."

Uncertain, Connor looked at the cock in front of his face and then up  
at Wesley. "You want me to...?"

The fingers of Wesley's other hand brushed over Connor's jawline. "It'll  
feel good," he said, in answer to Connor's earlier question. "Let me  
show you."

Connor leaned forward and did what Wesley had done to him -- licked  
his cock, just tracing the length of it with his tongue, leaving a slick  
trail of saliva across the warm skin. It didn't taste bad, and the way  
Wesley's breathing changed when he did it made him grin. "It's good."

"It's very good," Wesley confirmed. "Do it just like that."

Connor licked with more confidence the second time, and then started  
to see what things would make Wesley's breathing hitch in his throat.  
He flicked his tongue over the head of Wesley's cock, delicately, then  
took the whole thing into his mouth and sucked on it, which made Wesley  
groan softly. He'd just started to experiment with how far into his  
mouth he could take it -- which made *him* groan just as loudly as Wesley  
\-- when the other man pulled back abruptly.

"Turn around," he ordered. "On your hands and knees."

Connor scraped his teeth over the sensitive head of Wesley's cock. "Say  
'please.'"

"I'm not -- " Wesley started, and then interrupted himself. More calmly,  
"Please."

"Okay." Connor turned around, feeling kind of stupid with his ass in  
the air and his hard shaft throbbing between his legs.

A slick finger pushed its way into him again. This time it felt good,  
and Connor rocked back against it. Before he could get used to it, though,  
he felt Wesley's finger withdraw and something much bigger pressing  
against his ass. "Just relax," Wesley said, one hand on Connor's hip  
moving in little circles, like comfort.

Wesley's cock was wet and slippery -- and Connor knew that some of that  
was his own spit -- but it felt huge as it pushed into him. Like it  
was going to split him open. Connor set his jaw and stubbornly refused  
to make a sound, but his body had its own idea and tried to move away  
from the pain.

Wesley didn't try to hold him still -- not that he could have -- but  
he stopped moving. "Do you want me to stop?" At the same time he asked  
the question, his other hand came around and gripped onto Connor's cock  
tightly.

Connor shook his head.

"You're sure?"

"Yes." It took a lot to get the word out, but he did it.

Wesley pushed forward again, hard and all at once this time, and Connor  
couldn't choke back a small cry. Wesley's hand moved from his hip to  
his ass, fingers trailing over the skin, making Connor shiver. "There,"  
Wesley said, almost gently. "That's right."

Connor didn't think that was the word he'd use. Wesley slid out, and  
as Connor relaxed in unconscious relief, took advantage of the moment  
to quickly push inside again. It didn't hurt as much this time, and  
there was the distraction of Wesley's hand on his cock, stroking carefully  
but not fast enough to let Connor forget that he was being fucked.

"That's right," Wesley said again, thrusting a little bit more easily  
each time. He shoved himself in more forcefully, and Connor felt Wesley's  
cock hit that swelling inside of him that had been so sensitive before.

It was like a jolt of electricity. "Yeah," he said. He wasn't sure if  
it was about how it felt, or if he was agreeing with Wesley, or what.  
Wesley's cock bumped that spot again, and Connor felt his own cock pulse  
in Wesley's hand. "More. Like that."

Connor thought he heard Wesley chuckle, but the older man just moved  
again, deeper. Fucking him. He could feel his arm muscles tightening  
up as they supported his weight along with Wesley's, as his body began  
to respond to the stimulation with a growing sense of urgency.

The curve of Wesley's index finger was rubbing over the ridge just underneath  
the head of his cock, making his foreskin slide back and forth. Making  
him crazy.

"Good boy," Wesley said, and he sounded so much like Holtz that Connor  
had to bite his lip to keep from coming right then.

There was something wrong about that, he knew there was, but he wasn't  
sure he cared. Everything was all tied up in something else, and Connor  
didn't care if he forgot what was right. "More," he said again, gritting  
his teeth to keep control, just for another minute. He wanted the approval,  
wanted to be told that he'd done a good job.

Wesley was moving faster, fucking him harder, his cock hitting Connor  
in that same spot again and again. Connor's thighs were starting to  
ache as badly as his cock did -- tensed on the edge and trying *not*  
to come had suddenly turned into wanting to come and not being able  
to. He felt himself tremble, felt more than heard the low groan of desperation  
in his chest.

He wasn't sure if it was coincidence, or if Wesley figured out what  
was going on and somehow knew what to do about it, but Wes' hand tightened  
on his cock painfully, squeezing so hard that there almost wasn't any  
movement at all. At the same time, Wesley shoved himself in again, deeper  
than before, and then froze.

Connor could feel Wesley's cock pulsing inside of him, bringing what  
had been pleasure back to the edge of pain again, and then Wesley's  
grip on his cock loosened. Connor shoved back onto Wesley's dick even  
harder, the head of his own cock sliding into Wesley's palm, slick and  
hot.

He came with a hoarse shout, drawn out of him just like the orgasm.  
It took him as much by surprise as the first one had, and his arms gave  
out, collapsing both of them down onto the bed in a twisted pile.

Wesley rolled to one side, his hand rubbing Connor's back as he gradually  
remembered how to breathe again. Gentle fingers ran up and around his  
shoulder, then down to his lower back, tracing the curve of his ass.

"Are you all right?" Wesley asked finally.

Connor turned his head to look at him. "Yeah. You were right."

"About what?" Wesley looked amused.

"That it would feel good." Connor was a little bit embarrassed now that  
he thought about what they'd actually done, but it *had* felt good.  
Great.

He rolled away from Wesley, onto his side so they were facing each other,  
and ran his own hand down over Wesley's hip. He could see that Wesley's  
cock was softening now, getting smaller, but curiosity made him reach  
down and touch it. He fondled it, rolled Wesley's balls between his  
fingers, and grinned as it gave a twitch and then relaxed again.

"I'm considerably older than you," Wesley pointed out unnecessarily.  
"I need a bit more recovery time than that."

"That's okay," Connor said, leaning forward to kiss Wesley, his hand  
still exploring gently.

He thought about the fire raining from the sky, and how they might fall  
asleep and never wake up, if this was really the end of the world.

He wondered if he was to blame for what was happening.

He decided that maybe he couldn't afford to care. "I can wait," he said,  
and pulled Wesley closer.

 

 

End


End file.
